


Both of us

by FailWriter



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Feelings, Lonely lonely feelings, M/M, That's it that's the plot, They're both damaged and lonely and old and need each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 10:54:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FailWriter/pseuds/FailWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So you both could be lonely together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Both of us

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually extremelly simple and was posted in tumblr before under the URL fail-writer. I'm sorry for any mistakes. English is not my first language and it's my first work it's really in English, not just a translation. Please, do enjoy your reading.

You were both as lonely as can be, you and Gilbert. You were lonely, damaged, old, rotten, forgotten. You both burnt with memories and you both were always afraid of dreaming dreams of a way too glorious past. They would bring you to tears.

He told you he hated you, he could be cruel and he could be revengeful. But that one day you found lips locked, hands grabbing and wanting here and there, you remembered that time had turned all these words into lies. Neither had to say anything for you two to get into the meeting side by side, so close your shoulders were touching. They all giggled like stupid teenage girls the while meeting, and you were pleased to find Gilbert’s hand searching for yours under the table to get over the embarrassment.

Sometimes it was difficult, but you have been holding on for two years now. Sometimes it was difficult to see your old friends moving on, but Gilbert was there to give you a kiss full of teeth and remind you that you were not alone. Sometimes it was difficult to bear the economy, and the damn corrupt politics, and that not even regions wanted you no longer, but when Gilbert cried on your shoulder over some ignorant swine he had overheard not knowing what Prussia had been, you considered yourself lucky in many forms. He made you a better man; he shone in so much glory, still there from the long gone past, bright like gold, his smile shining up your whole day for simply being there. He was the colourful, beautiful summer you wish you had, he spit flames of rage, he kissed with passion and shone the sunshine you so much needed after a rough day, when you found him laughing his weird laugh on your couch, and God, you only needed that, but the fact that you could go there and kiss him and hug him made it all perfect.

But yet, you wish you didn’t know, you wish you hadn’t heard him cry, seen him falling apart, you wish you hadn’t felt everything the fact that your dearest wasn’t a country any more could damage. He needed weeks to heal a broken bone, he got fever from the cold Russian winter, he had to bear jokes about not being an actual country anymore, and you had to stop him when his replies - his rage and his stupid attempts to show he was not dead - were getting way too out of hand. You wish you didn’t know he puts up that stupid happy front to hide how weak and damaged and broken he is. You wish that his smile didn’t burn you with all its beauty.

You wish you weren’t so afraid.

You felt his burning happiness, his deadly heat coming from his body, the vernal existence, the pure and broken life.

He was everything you could ever wish for, your sunlight, the only thing that could keep you – your heart – warm during the winters. And you couldn’t even help him to be happy all the time, you couldn’t make him feel less alone, you couldn’t hold him through the nights and believe he felt better by that. You’re so fucking useless, Russia. You refused to acknowledge it was Gilbert’s voice dancing in your head. Yet, he’d smile again. He’d hug you again. He’d comfort you again. He’d laugh again. He was the miracle left for you – this time – in the world, and you were sure he’d eventually fade away if you didn’t take care of him. Your blood burned every time you came into terms about it, and you’d hold Prussia tightly until you were sure he was yours as much as you were his.

These were the moments you remembered he could die, and you feared. You feared that your dearest would be forgotten; you feared not having his chest to cry on after the night terrors, you feared being left alone in that enormous house again. You feared your life without Prussia again. You feared the guilt of, every day, having to remember you had done this to Gilbert.

And you cry. He holds you, he tells you it’s just a nightmare, he buries your face on his chest or his shoulder and comforts you, says it’s not your fault alone, that you both knew what had actually happened in that house, that you had only said things that hurt him, and that he had forgiven you, that it’s alright, that he won’t die and that he loves you so very much, then he kisses you again and again until he’s falling asleep. In these moments you feel safe, you feel loved, you feel not so lonely, and you don’t feel how empty the house is or how people might have passed the day thinking about how much they hated you. You only felt Gilbert’s body and how much he belonged to you.

The next day he’d demand breakfast, wake up late, tidy the house, be grumpy while you walked to some sort of meeting. You’d come back to some ridiculous or simply adorable scene. Again, he’d bright your day up. And everybody seemed to be missing out.

You both had earned more hate then anything in your lives as countries. Now, except for Antonio, Francis and Ludwig, people were divided between hating him and forgetting him. It hurt both of you, because you did know how it felt. Comforting each other and calling him old and being called stupid brat was the best way you had to ignore them all.

Because you two had enemies, and you two were old. You two were lonely, and had fears and cried in the middle of the night. So you both could be lonely together.


End file.
